The Pointy-Eared Pathologist
by PhoebeSnow
Summary: Sherlock never expected to discover that Molly Hooper was an elf, but perhaps he wasn't as observant as he thought...


**A/N: This was my contribution to the Twelve Days of Sherlolly 2017 event. Enjoy!**

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"How is this possible? Did you have some kind of reconstruction surgery done on your ears?"

"That's ridiculous, Sherlock. You know I hate those kind of things and why would I have my ears fixed? Just feel them and you'll know that they're real." Molly stood in front of the detective and put her hands on her hips.

Sherlock licked his lips and reached out slowly, touching the tips of her ears. His fingers were cold and she shivered, but she stayed still as he rubbed the tipped points. "This is the strangest thing I've ever seen."

Molly grinned. "Nonsense. You've solved more bizarre murders and cases than I can count on both hands. This isn't high on the list."

"Well, maybe not, but coupled with the fact that you're actually an elf...you're number one."

"I don't know whether to be happy about that or worried."

"You're safe with me, Molly," Sherlock murmured before pinching the tips of her ears.

"Ow! Obviously that promise doesn't apply to my ears!" She swatted his hand away and moved out of his reach.

"Sorry, but it's still a shock. I just wanted to make sure your ears were really pointy."

A scowl crossed her face. "I wouldn't lie to you about something this important, Sherlock."

"That's true. I'm sorry, Molly. This is just...very hard for me to grasp. Oh, this means that Santa Claus is real, right?"

"Yes, it does, but I don't work for him anymore."

"You don't?"

"No. I'm retired."

"And he just let you come to the real world and live the rest of your life as a human?"

"Of course. Santa is very benevolent by nature and he'd never force any of the elves to stay at the North Pole if they didn't want to. I'm not the first one to leave either."

"So, there are elves all over the world?"

"You got it."

"But how do _you_ have an English accent, then? Is there some hidden sanctuary where elves from every nationality and ethnicity grow up until they're old enough to decide what they want to do?"

"Mm, I'm afraid I can't tell you, Sherlock. There are some things in life that must be kept a secret."

He watched her briefly and nodded. "I understand. I still find it strange that you just left. I thought that Santa's elves loved making toys."

"Oh, I did, but I had been the head elf of our operation for several years and eventually, the stress of the job got to be too much for me. So, I needed to quit for the sake of my sanity."

"Really? You went from toy making to doing autopsies on dead bodies. A little morbid, that."

"Maybe, but it's true. Besides, you wouldn't have found another pathologist to willingly put up with you."

"There's no other pathologist who I am better suited to work with than you."

"Flatterer."

"Quite the contrary. I meant what I said. We're well matched, Molly Hooper, and I enjoy our partnership very much."

Molly smiled and wrapped her arms around his waist. "As do I."

The detective touched her ears again, this time, caressing them gently. "I'm guessing that you have some kind of magical abilities, powers to make your ears appear normal. Am I correct?"

"On the dot. Do you want me to change them back to demonstrate?"

"Please."

Molly closed her eyes, concentrated and the next moment, her ears were like they were before. The pointy tips had successfully disappeared and Sherlock chuckled at the sight.

"I think I prefer you with your elf ears."

"That's sweet of you to say. I obviously can't go around in London, letting people see them, but I can remove the disguise for you whenever we're alone."

"Sounds good to me." Sherlock bent down to nip at Molly's ear, his hands sliding around her back to hold her closer. When he spoke again, it was in a seductive timbre. "Since you're not Santa's little helper anymore, would you like to be mine?"

She shivered and arched her head back. "It depends. What would you like me to do?"

There was no missing the lascivious expression on his face. "I'd rather be in the bedroom for this discussion."

"As you wish." Molly stepped back and was going to walk to Sherlock's bedroom, but he picked her up and carried her there, depositing her on the mattress. She giggled as he crawled over her and placed a searing kiss on her lips.

 _Obviously_ , he wasn't thinking of talking, but that was just fine with Molly. Tonight was Christmas Eve and she couldn't think of a better way to celebrate than making love with the man she adored.


End file.
